Your comments, reviews, and votes really help me out so much and they make me super motivated to keep working on this story! Thank you! Pat**on : ilham20
--
Thanks to those who are still reading. The book doesn't have many active readers, so it will probably go on sale at 200k words. Thank you everyone for your recommendation votes and monthly tickets. There might be quite a few toxic points, but I'm having fun writing it. Thanks to the boss "Grandmist Purple Gold Thirty-Six Grade" for carefully pointing out typos in every chapter; I've corrected and adjusted them all. Thank you very much!
---
"A rooster?" Hermione looked bewildered. "What kind of Middle-earth folk remedy is this? I've checked every copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there's never been a record of using poultry to fight petrification."
"An ancient exorcism ritual, or maybe just because the monster's weakness is crowing. In some ancient ballads, the crowing of the dawn can dispel the deepest nightmares."
"Stop asking, go to the library. If we want to find answers before the school is closed, we have to race against time. Like Gandalf searching for clues about the One Ring in the archives of Minas Tirith."
So, ten minutes later, the quartet was sitting at a long table in the furthest corner of the library.
Rain lashed against the glass outside, making a rattling sound.
> [Status: Low Morale]
> [Note: Fear is spreading through this fortress like a plague.]
In the library, clusters of students were gathered. Most were not there to study, but to huddle together for warmth.
Fear was like a strong glue, sticking students from different houses together—except for Slytherin, who always kept to themselves.
At a long table not far from them, Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff was whispering urgently to a group of gathered Badgers. He looked agitated, waving his hands in the air. Susan Bones was among them, looking somewhat angry, arms crossed, staring disapprovingly at Ernie.
"I don't buy that, Ernie," Susan said sharply. "Rove said it wasn't Harry, so it definitely isn't. I trust Rove's judgment like I trust the sun will rise in the east."
"Oh, please, Susan!" Ernie looked anxious, his face flushed red. "I know you like... cough, I know you admire Baggins. He's our hero, true. But he's too... too trusting!"
Ernie waved his arms, his voice involuntarily raising a few decibels. "Although Baggins has been guarding him like a knight, haven't you noticed? Potter is always at the scene of the crime. That night, he heard the voice first... it's as suspicious as always seeing the same suspect at a crime scene!"
"That was him being vigilant!" Susan retorted. "Rove says Harry has 'Ranger's Intuition'. If he were the Heir, Rove would have bashed him with a frying pan long ago! You know how sensitive Rove is to 'Dark Forces'. Last time Peeves just wanted to play a prank in the kitchen, Rove chased him through three corridors with his 'Tactical Frying Pan'!"
"Baggins is bewitched!" Ernie insisted stubbornly. "Like those followers in history controlled by Dark Wizards with the Imperius Curse! Harry Potter... some say he's a Dark Wizard. Although unproven, the way he looks at people... that gloomy look... he's practically the next You-Know-Who!"
Sitting not far away, Harry gripped his quill tightly. He felt like a criminal being publicly judged, his only crime being that he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ron's face was red with anger, wanting to stand up and argue, but Hermione held him down firmly.
"Don't, Ron. That will only make things worse," Hermione whispered, her eyes worried. "If you charge over there now, it will only confirm their prejudice that 'Gryffindors are violent maniacs'."
But there was one person who couldn't tolerate it.
Rove slammed the book in his hand—Medieval Defense Against the Dark Arts, thick as a brick—shut with a loud bang.
THUD!
The entire library went silent instantly. Madam Pince poked her head out from behind a bookshelf, glaring over. But seeing the noise-maker was Rove, the feather duster she had raised froze in mid-air. After all, this Hufflepuff "weirdo" was an "Outstanding Guardian" publicly praised by Dumbledore, and rumor had it he even helped Madam Pince fix that biting Monster Book of Monsters—albeit by physical means (tying it up like a dumpling).
Rove stood up, grabbed the "brick," and strode over to the Hufflepuff table.
> [Mission Triggered: Shaken Morale]
> [Objective: Quell internal rumors in Hufflepuff, stabilize ally trust.]
> [Reward: Hufflepuff Reputation Increased, Susan Bones Affinity Increased.]
"Bag... Baggins?" Ernie looked at Rove towering over him, his momentum shrinking instantly. He still held some awe for Rove; after all, this guy had really dared to charge a Dark Wizard last year. "I... we were just discussing..."
"Discussing how to push our ally into the abyss?"
He slammed the brick-book heavily onto the table in front of Ernie, making the ink bottles jump.
"Ernie, I thought after a year together, you would understand what 'Loyalty' means."
"In my hometown, when we camp in the wild facing the howling of wolves, if we start suspecting the companion keeping watch, we are not far from death."
"You are spreading panic. You are shaking morale. This is Saruman's favorite trick—making allies suspect each other until we disintegrate from within. You are doing for the enemy what they cannot do themselves."
"I'm not shaking morale!" Ernie flushed, trying to maintain his dignity, but his voice lacked confidence. "We have to protect Hufflepuff! If Potter really is..."
"If he were, you'd already be a group of stone statues!" Rove interrupted him. "This week, I have been with Potter almost every moment. We eat together, patrol the corridors... together. If he were planning an attack, then I am an accomplice. Are you trying to say I am also the Heir of Slytherin? Or do you think I, a Hufflepuff, am also a Dark Wizard?"
"No! Of course not!" Ernie was startled and waved his hands frantically. "You are the Light of Hufflepuff! Everyone knows you... you are just too kind. Everyone says you are deceived by Potter because you are too simple."
"Not kindness, judgment." Rove pointed to his own eyes. "I have seen true darkness, Ernie. Trust me, Harry Potter does not have that smell. His current state is just a Ring-bearer burdened with too much weight."
"Ring-bearer?" The surrounding Badgers looked at each other, not understanding the term at all.
"It means he is bearing the pressure for all of us," Rove switched to a simpler explanation. "While you hide shivering in the common room, he is facing the fear directly."
He turned his head to look at Susan, who had been trying to speak up for him.
"Thank you, Susan." Rove's gaze softened instantly. "You did right. In the fog, only those with clear hearts can see the direction. Your courage is greater than all the boys at this table combined."
Susan's face turned completely red instantly, but she looked up, meeting Rove's gaze. "I... I just trust your judgment, Rove. If you say it's fine, then it's definitely fine. I trust you like I trust Hogwarts is the safest place."
She turned her head and glared fiercely at Ernie: "Did you hear that? Rove said it's fine. If you dare talk nonsense again, I'll tell Professor Sprout you were slacking off in the greenhouse!"
Ernie opened his mouth, looked at the imposing Rove, then at the determined Susan, and finally shrank back into his chair like a deflated balloon.
"Fine," Ernie muttered, compromising reluctantly. "Since you vouch for him... but if something happens, Rove, it's on you. If I turn into a stone statue, I won't let you off even as a ghost."
"I'll take responsibility."
"If Harry turns into a Dark Lord, I'll be the first to knock him out with a frying pan. But until then, he is our comrade-in-arms. And with comrades, we either give them our back or shut our mouths."
He scanned the surrounding Hufflepuff students; their originally terrified eyes now looked much more settled.
"Remember, Hufflepuffs do not abandon friends." Rove concluded, then picked up his "brick" and, under everyone's gaze, walked back to Harry like a victorious general.
Harry looked up, looking at him gratefully, his eyes slightly red. "Thank you, Rove. And... that was Susan Bones? She looked quite fierce; that glare at Ernie just now was almost like Professor McGonagall."
"She's a good warrior," Rove reopened his book. "Potential Shieldmaiden. If one day we form a Hogwarts Fellowship to crusade against Mordor or the depths of the Forbidden Forest, I'll consider saving a spot for her. Every great King needs a brave Éowyn."
Harry looked better. Although he didn't understand Shieldmaidens or Fellowships, nor did he know who Éowyn was, he knew at least someone—and the group of friends behind that person—was willing to stand by him. This feeling was like drinking a hot Butterbeer on a cold rainy night.
Before Rove's eyes, a line of golden system notifications emerged:
> [Speech Check Passed]
> [Skill Unlocked: Speech / Persuasion Lv1]
> [Effect: Your words now have a slight 'Command' effect, temporarily stabilizing ally morale. When facing targets with weak willpower, there is a chance to induce a sense of awe.]
> [Hufflepuff Faction Reputation: Slightly Increased]
> [Susan Bones Affinity: Increased to 'Trust']
The corners of Rove's mouth curled up slightly. Hidden behind the pages of his book, he hummed a tune about the Shire.
"What are you humming?" Hermione asked curiously. "Doesn't sound like a wizarding tune."
"Nothing," Rove said softly. "A song about home, pipe-weed, and roasted mushrooms. That is the motivation driving us forward in the darkness."
But outside the window, the rain fell harder.